The Bayville Blotter
by turbomagnus
Summary: The collecting place for my Evolution shorts and drabbles not related to any other works. Pairings, ratings and even timeframes and universes may vary.
1. Taste of Home

Author's Note: The 365 Project is an experimental project to write and post at least one short every day for the next year, not including my semi-regular bi-weekly updates. Whether or not that goal can be reached, we'll see... This is The 365 Project, 10 January.

Disclaimer: "X-Men: Evolution" and all associated characters and situations are the property of Marvel, used for entertainment purposes without permission or intent to profit. Apologies to Ray Stevens, no offence is meant by any reference to any of his songs - he's been a favorite of mine for years.

Probably takes place sometimes late in Season two - just before Mystique's return to the Brotherhood - or mid-Season three after things have settled back down.

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><p>"Taste of Home"<br>By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

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><p>"It was a secret meeting in the dead of the night with mysterious sanctimony, in accordance with prescribed rituals, a time-honored ceremony. Matters of grave concern were weighed with dedicated caution... like whether or not to raise at Stud or Draw or 'Spit in the Ocean'!"<p>

"Sam, turn tha' blasted thing off!" One of the room's other occupants snapped, "Ya want the whole dang town comin' to find us?"

"Sorry, Rogue," Sam Guthrie answered, turning down the volume on the cd player, "Just felt like some good music instead of that stuff we're always hearing at the Institute."

"Look," Rogue hissed, "Ah appreciate the sentiment, Sam, ah really do - ah share a room with Kitty, queen of the pop, after all - but secret meetings are supposed to be jus' that; secret."

Another figure stuck their head in the room, "Besides, Coy's fooling around with a red-head in that song - you want any of the red-heads we got to deal with bothering us?"

Considering who that would be, Sam winced, "Nah, I think I get it,, y'all. Jeeze, y'all know how to ruin a good song."

Rogue sighed, "Song, song... The important stuff ready yet? That's what ah wanna know, Fred."

"Ya know the old sayin'," Fred Dukes answered, "'An hour if ya help'..."

"...'Thirty minutes if ya don't'," all three of them finished together.

"Ya ain't helped," Fred continued, "So 'bout five more minutes, I figure."

"Thank God," Rogue shook her head, "It's been way too long for some of this stuff, ah was beginning to forget..."

"Not gonna happen," Sam countered, "Leastwise not with me."

"Well, it was your idea, anyway," Rogue reminded him.

And it was. It didn't take long after Sam had joined the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning for him to figure out that he was part of an unsung-minority, one of a small and proud band that crossed the lines between the Institute students and their rivals in the Brotherhood... You see, Sam Guthrie was many things; oldest of the ten Guthrie children, mutant, Institute student, teenager; but besides being his sibling's brother, one of the most important things about him to him was where Sam came from. Sam was a proud Kentuckian, something that most of the mutants in Bayville didn't understand, so he ended up reaching out to the two that did; the Texan and the Mississippian, otherwise known as Fred 'The Blob' Dukes and Rogue, 'just Rogue', and they began to get together and jaw about their home states. The get-togethers were Sam's idea, but it was Fred who came up with a way to make them even better...

"Aw'ight," Fred announced as he entered the room, a serving tray as big as the top of the table the other two were sitting at in his hands, "Supper's ready, you two. All the usual; real gut-bombs and not the Big Mac-knockoffs from up here; RC Cola and classic Moon Pies with none of those goofy new flavors they're making; the okra's fresh-breaded and deep-fried; got some cornbread with real corn in it; the sweet tea's been sun-brewing all day; a little bit of pecan pie for dessert; all the usual good stuff, right?"

After Fred had set the tray on the table, Sam held out his hands for the others to take; "Y'all know the drill... Oh, Lord, bless this food to the use and nourishment of our bodies, Amen."

"Amen."

"Ah-men," Rogue added, "Pass me some of them gut-bombs, Sam."

"Sure thing," Sam picked up one of the bags and held it out to her, "Pass some of that fried okra back this way, please."

Rogue slid one of the bowls filled with the green vegetable over to him, before she dug into the bag filled with fresh, hot, small square sandwiches, "Ah swear, if ah had to hear Kurt talk about how great that 'Gut-Bomb Burgers' place is again, ah was gonna do somethin' drastic. Those ain't no 'gut-bombs', like you said, Fred - these are gut-bombs."

The Kentuckian stopped indulging himself in okra for a moment to look at the Texan, "You know, Fred, you never told us just how your cousin gets this stuff up here, especially with the burgers stayin' hot and the RC and the tea stayin' cold."

Fred finished chewing the Moon Pie that was in his mouth before answering, "I asked D.W. that, ya know what he said?"

"Let me guess," Rogue answered drolly, "He said, 'don't ask'."

"Aw," the mohawked mutant scratched his head in disappointment, "How'd ya know?"

"'Cause ya wouldn't have said that if he didn't," Rogue pointed out, causing Fred to scratch his head again.

"I guess you're right," Fred nodded, "Who's ready for some pie?"


	2. Full-Court Press

Author's Note: The 365 Project is an experimental _multi-fandom_ project to write and post at least one short every day for the next year, not including my semi-regular bi-weekly updates. For more details, see the relevent section in my profile. This is The 365 Project, 13 April. ...Seriously, this month has just seemed to fly by so far...

Interestingly enough, I saw a scene in the "G.I. Joe: Sgt. Savage and The Screaming Eagles" one-off 'Old Soldiers Never Die' involving someone teaching a bunch of punks manners thinly disguised as a basketball game long before "The Expendables" ever came out, but the similarities are striking. That's actually what got me to watch "The Expendables" the first time. I had a few different thoughts about how to write the idea, but in the end there was really only one couple where the guy could realistically pull off 'romantic' and 'borderline psychotic' at the same time...

Disclaimer: "X-Men: Evolution" and all associated characters and situations are the property of Marvel, used for entertainment purposes without permission or intent to profit.

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><p>-o0O0o-<p>

"Full-Court Press"  
>By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'<p>

-o0O0o-

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><p>When Kitty turned her head away as he walked by, Logan waited until he was out of sight and then shook his head sadly. Xavier's 'hands-off' policy when it came to some things just didn't sit right with the Canadian, no matter how many times the leader of the Institute gave him sone line about 'respecting the decisions of others', 'not interfering in the students' personal lives', or 'allowing students to handle difficulties on their own.' When a guy laid hands on the girl he was supposed to be dating, to Logan that took it way past 'difficulties'.<p>

'The only reason he's letting Piotr get away with it is 'cause he's still playing 'I'm better than you' games with Magneto,' Logan grumbled to himself mentally, knowing that Xavier's biggest problem was that the telepath honestly thought his way was the best for everyone.

'There's sure to be some 'cultural differences', he says,' Logan snorted at the thought. Cultural differences were things like preferring hockey to baseball, not hitting a girl. The problem was that as long as Xavier was protecting Piotr and the Half-Pint was refusing to say anything, there wasn't a thing that Logan could do about it.

'Not a thing I can do about it,' Logan thought to himself, then grinned ferally as something occured to him, "Not a thing _I_ can do about it..."

With a plan in mind, Logan headed for the nearest phone, he couldn't do anything, but he knew someone who could, would, and wouldn't let Xavier or anyone else stop them.

-o0o-

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><p>The impact of the speeding jeep tore the gates to the mansion grounds clear off their hinges and it didn't slow down until it reached the front steps and stopped with the front passenger tire half-way up the steps. Swinging himself out of the jeep, Lance Alvers marched up the steps and opened the mansion's front door with a well-placed kick before entering with his fists clenched at his sides. Logan was standing there with his arms folded, waiting.<p>

"Where is he?" Lance demanded.

"Out back, basketball court with the others."

"Fine with me," Lance snarled, "They let him get away with it, they're no better than him as far as I'm concerned.

"Uh-huh," Logan nodded gruffly as Lance walked by him leaving a chill in the air as he passed.

'Yeah,' Logan thought to himself, 'Should've let me handle it - been easier on them.'

-o0o-

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><p>Piotr was right where Logan had said he would be; the Institute's basketball court with Scott Summers, Evan Daniels and Bobby Drake in a game of two-on-two. The odds were probably better for them than the one-on-four odds that was headed towards them with Hell following five steps behind. Scott passed the ball to Piotr, but the game ground to a halt as the four X-Men noticed Lance coming their way.<p>

"What are you doing here, Alvers?" Summers demanded.

"Something you don't seem to have the balls to, Scooter," Lance retorted as he kept closing in on them.

"Is that right?"

"I always knew you were Xavier's pet," Lance remarked, "I just didn't know he'd had you neutered, too. Get out of the way and the only one of you that has to get hurt is the Russkie."

"No way," Evan, back from the sewers and still looking like a triceratops on two legs, answered, "You mess with one X-Man, you mess with us all, Alvers."

"You think that scares me?" Lance retorted as he closed the last few feet to come face to face with Evan, "You ain't got enough of you to scare me."

"Go away and mind your own business," Piotr advised.

Lance had news for him, "She is my business. Always will be."

They were expecting Lance to use his powers. That was a mistake. He was too pissed to bother with powers when there was a lot more satisfying method available. Before any of the X-Men could react, Lance had grabbed Evan by his horns and twisted, throwing him to the ground like a bull before giving him a good kick to the side that sent him rolling away until he ended up rolling into the fence, stopping on his back and turtled - unable to get up. With Lance standing there instead of moving, Bobby saw his chance and quickly created a shell of ice around him.

"Ha! Got 'im!" Drake cheered, only to loose his footing as the ground began to shake and the ice holding Lance cracked, splintered and finally shattered to free the other mutant.

"Got who?" Lance asked rhetorically as he reached out and grabbed Bobby's still-extended arm and pulled the X-Man towards him, twisting him to face forward before shoving him into Scott and knocking them both to the ground.

Piotr tossed the basketball to the side and rushed Lance, only to be on the recieving end of a clothesline to the neck as Lance grabbed the Russian's wrist and jerked hard, dislocating the other man's elbow as he fell. Casually, Lance picked up the basketball and slammed it into Piotr's chest, causing him to reflexively use his good arm to catch it. Reaching into his vest, Lance pulled out a butterfly knife, released the catch and flipped it open all in one smooth motion before raising it over his head and reversing it into a backhand grip.

"You are crazy person!" Piotr cried out just before Lance plunged the knife down.

As air hissed out of the basketball, Lance made his position clear, "Next time, I won't stop with deflating your balls. Next time, I'm gonna melt you down for scrap, got it?"

Without waiting for an answer, Lance closed and stowed his knife, turning to walk back through the mansion to his jeep. Inside, seeing Kitty standing in a doorway where she had obviously seen what had just happened outside, Lance stopped and looked at her, "Maybe I am a thug and maybe that's all I'll ever be, but you should've stuck around, I was still worth it."


	3. The Wrong Burger Joint

Author's Note: The 365 Project is an experimental _multi-fandom_ project to write and post at least one short every day for the next year, not including my semi-regular bi-weekly updates. For more details, see the relevent section in my profile. This is The 365 Project, 28 April.

In the immortal words of Samuel L. Clemens... "Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot. BY ORDER OF THE AUTHOR."

Disclaimer: "X-Men: Evolution" and all associated characters and situations are the property of Marvel, used for entertainment purposes without permission or intent to profit.

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><p>-o0O0o-<p>

"The Wrong Burger Joint"  
>By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'<p>

-o0O0o-

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><p>There are moments in life that - despite inanity, stupidity, pride and presumption - deserve a good laugh, usually because of the people involved. The man who shoves the woman out of the way because he knows CPR, only for her to tell him that when he reaches the part about calling a doctor, she's an M.D.; the thug wielding a bike chain who tells a man in a suit to give him all his money only to drop the chain and run when the man opens his suit jacket to reveal a big black gun clipped to one side of his belt and a big gold star clipped to the other; the resturant employee who gives bad service only for the customer to turn out to be an undercover inspector; these are the kinds of people who makes us just stop and go 'Wow, are you stupid'.<p>

Today, another person will join their ranks.

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><p>-o0o-<p>

It started casually enough. It was just after three in the afternoon and the after-school crowd had filled up the Gut Bomb Burgers in Bayville, Long Island, New York. Teenagers and young adults filled booths and tables, chatting with friends and eating burgers and fries, chasing them down with shakes and sodas; a picture of Americana. While the exact locations, foods, cliques and styles had changed, the youth in the Gut Bomb were a modern echo of an eighties pizza parlor or a fifties drive-in. Not much attention was made to the man who looked around nervously as he approached the counter, the Gut Bomb had developed a reputation because of some of its regular customers and that reputation wasn't all good in some people's opinion.

The clerk behind the counter greeted him according to protocol when the man reached the counter, "Hi, welcome to Gut Bomb Burgers. What would you like this afternoon? I can recommend our number nineteen with extra onions."

"How about..." the man suddenly took a step back and pulled out a handgun, pointing it at the clerk, "Everything in the register! Now! And nobody else move!"

Throughout the building, several things happened almost simultaneously...

A man with grey hair lifted his drink cup to take a sip of Cherry Coke - old style, Coca-Cola with actual cherries in it instead of the more common cherry syrup. It was the main reason he ate at the Gut Bomb.

A petite ponytailed brunette nodded at the brown-haired young man sitting across from her. That young man closed his hand into a fist and pointed it at the floor where the robber stood.

Two other young men shared a table, one large and 'big-boned', the other spindly and wiry with a toad-like face. They looked at the robber in disbelief and the wiry one's face twitched as though he were about to spit.

Another couple looked at each other in silent communication before they looked towards the robber and the male reached for his rose-tinted sunglasses.

Then it was as if a hurricane broke loose inside the Gut Bomb as the building began to shake, causing the robber to loose his balance; a glow of energy surrounded his gun and jerked it out of his hand split-seconds before a beam of red energy blasted it into pieces; a large glob of sticky slime went flying through the air and hit the floor; the robber fell to the ground landing in the slime, ending up immobilized and trapped.

And finally, a member of the local police department, a grey-haired veteran detective who sat his drink down, looked over at the man unconscious on the floor and shook his head.

"Somebody picked the wrong burger joint," he observed.


	4. Game Day

Author's Note: The 365 Project is an experimental _multi-fandom_ project to write and post at least one short every day for the next year, not including my semi-regular bi-weekly updates. For more details, see the relevent section in my profile. This is The 365 Project, 6 May.

In the immortal words of Samuel L. Clemens... "Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot. BY ORDER OF THE AUTHOR."

When does it take place? Probably post-series, definitely after mutants are revealed.

Disclaimer: "X-Men: Evolution" and all associated characters and situations are the property of Marvel, used for entertainment purposes without permission or intent to profit.

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><p>-o0O0o-<p>

"Game Day"  
>By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'<p>

-o0O0o-

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><p>"We've got to do something..."<p>

"Like what?"

"I don't know... Calvinball?"

"Do you want another visit from Bill Watterson's lawyers?"

"Good point. They were scary over those shirts. Paintball?"

"We've been banned from that inside the local police's jurisdiction, remember? How about Pingoball?"

"I still don't know why some of the cops are more afraid of paintballs than slime, earthquakes and stuff... Anyway, we don't have a stuffed fox to use for Pingoball. Truth or dare?"

"Come on, Todd," Freddy groaned, "Pie'll always take dare and Lance'll come up with dares meant to get him alone with Kitty, you really want to play that game?"

"Aw, man, I hate it when you have a point light that one," Todd huffed, "There's gotta be something we can do before we go insane here, yo?"

"I dunno, maybe we could..." Fred shrugged, "Make ourselves useful or something?"

Todd glared at him, "I'm gonna forget you ever said that, yo. What, you wanna ruin our reputations or something?"

"Nah, I just thought maybe some demolition company would be willing to pay us to destroy something," Fred answered.

"Seriously?" Todd looked at him in disbelief, "That's like asking 'who wants to be able to claim mutants destroyed their place when they collect the insurance money', yo."

"Well, gee, when ya put it like that," Fred scratched his head, "It's not such a good idea, I guess."

"Hey, waitta minute," Todd sniffed the air, "Where is the earthshaker, anyway?"

"You don't think?"

"That lovesick loon?" Todd shook his head, "We don't got to think about it. You call Detective Sergeant Gunn to make sure while I check and see if we've got enough bail money."

"Why's he gotta do this?" Fred groaned, "He's graduated, we've got a restraining order from the school, why?"

"Cause he's a cat person, that's why," Todd answered with sarcasm strong, "Think maybe we should replace Lance with a dog, yo. It'd still chase cats, but at least it wouldn't be chasing Kitty..."


End file.
